Strange Magic
by afiendishthingie
Summary: A singer and his band perform their weirdest gig ever. A fanfic of the video to Avalon by Roxy Music


Strange Magic

He surveyed the ballroom of the Stately Home that he and his band were to play at that late spring evening. The manor was fading. Some of the masonry had a mildly dilapidated look to it and here and there, paint was starting to peel but it had lost none of it's grandeur for it. The place was still one of the more intimidating venues he'd ever played. The ballroom was in shades of gray, black and white with the potted ferns and pink, white, lavender and red floral arrangements on the tables providing beautiful, tasteful color.

They were setting up. He glanced over at this guitarist and they both shared a look. The look said that they would definitely be needing a drink or three after this gig. Normally, they didn't play for such a dignified and stately(perhaps even stuffy) crowd. Most of the people he had bumped into where older, much older than his 35 years.

He thought back to the day they were hired for this event. The elderly gentleman who hired him and his band wasn't the usual father of a spoiled daughter getting married. In fact, the man wasn't hiring him for a wedding or engagement party at all. Actually, he couldn't remember the nature of the event for which he was hired. It wasn't for a graduation, wedding, or engagement. He didn't think it was a coming out party as almost everyone he'd run into was at least fifty. Frowning, he tried to remember why the tall, gaunt, white haired man hired him to perform. He couldn't even recall if his employer told him anything at all about the nature of the event, other than location. A small frisson of anxiety danced down his spine at the realization that he knew nothing about where he was and why he was here.

They were almost set up. In mere moments, the guests would start filing in, ready to dance and be entertained. He checked his appearance quickly in a restroom mirror, satisfied. He was a handsome man, and looked very good in his white tuxedo and black bow tie. His dark brown hair was neatly swept back and his blue green eyes shone a little more brightly than usual. Maybe by some sorcery wrought by the soft light in the ivory and gold restroom?

He took the stage and microphone and looked out among the throng. Such a strange gathering, he thought. Throng was actually the wrong word for this crowd. Crowd was just as wrong, really, for the tables were almost empty. The few people that were gathered were almost all elderly. Odd.

He supposed curiosity wasn't really necessary. They were being paid an exquisite sum and, he said to himself, unless he was to be sacrificed to some eldritch abomination by these old geezers to regain lost youth, he wouldn't worry too much about it.

When he started singing, swaying with the gentle music while some of the elderly danced, he lost himself to the beat , letting the warmth and electricity flow through him. If anyone were to ask him, he couldn't have told him or her what he was singing. The words just flowed through him. In his best gigs he always had the feeling that he wasn't so much performing and singing as he was letting the music use him. While this was very like those times, he felt even less in control of it. Distantly, as if through a fog of opiates or benzodiazepines, the uneasiness started creeping and prickling through his brain.

Finally, someone in his audience caught his eye. She was a young woman, beautiful, a little feral, a little otherworldly. Her dress was a softly scintillating pale pink, which, when caught by the light, had a faintly golden sheen. Her hair was also golden, and abundant, swept back from her forehead and temples with equally pinky-gold combs, leaving her glorious mane to fall down past her shoulder blades.

However, it was her face that captivated him. Her pale skin had the faintest hint of pink high on her prominent cheekbones. Her mouth, full and wide, held a hint of an amused smile. Her nose was finely boned and gently upturned. What mainly drew him, though, where her eyes. They were a stormy grey green, which was striking enough. However, the most arresting aspects of her eyes were their vividness and intent focus.

He had a brief hallucination, strangely, of a hawk, directly staring with a hint of challenge. He mentally shook himself, and saw a glamorous woman, once more. His impression of a raptor, though, was reinforced when he noticed her shoes, which were a lavender gray color with dark brown and white feathers adorning the top of and obscuring a part of her foot.

Now that he had a focus, he found himself singing to her, serenading her, singing a wistful lyric about one perfect golden moment when a person finds someone so beautiful, so intriguing that time stood still. He'd always been a romantic and though he dreamed of the moment when he would meet such a creature, he'd never been sure that such a one existed. Now, he realized, his dreamed of moment was happening that night.

For her part, she seemed equally fascinated by him. Her gaze would always return to him as she stood near the stage and swayed along to the music, hardly distracted by anything else in the room. In his mind, he saw her beckon him, invite him to dance with her.

His waking dream had him dancing leisurely, sensuous circles with her, her golden hair swaying in time. In his mind, everyone else disappeared, leaving only him and his delightful companion to dance. He envisioned sitting with her on one of the chaises, side by side, in silence. He would lift his hand and brush her shoulder and she would turn to him with a mocking challenge and get up from the couch. In his mind, he had an instant of worry when he felt that his advance was too heavy handed and had offended her. This vanished when she turned again to look at her and she was staring brazenly back.

This entire encounter happened only in his mind and when he came back to himself, he realized that he was still singing, still swaying to his own rhythm. What was disconcerting, though, was he found that the ballroom that he was performing in, was now empty of all but he, his band and this mysterious beauty who still stared and danced.

While he was daydreaming, she had removed her feathery shoes, and was dancing in arcs and swirls about the room, not even glancing at him. His mind registered anxiety. This was, bar none, the strangest show that he had performed. He began to wonder if he was perhaps dreaming now and that this was only taking place in his mind.

He glanced at the rest of the band and noticed that they seemed dazed and worried, themselves. If this wasn't all just a dream, he realized that he wasn't the only one who had woken from a trance or daydream to find that they were performing to an audience of one now.

She continued to whirl, her hair flying behind her as he played song after song, unaware of the songs he was singing.

Finally, he was done! He was torn between fear and curiosity and he had to restrain himself from running from the house in fear. There was still a question of payment of the rest of their fee. Whatever he was experiencing, it didn't negate the fact that he needed the money and so did his band. He left the stage and went to hunt up the gentleman that had hired him.

To his irritation and worry, the man wasn't anywhere to be seen. However, the biggest surprise came when he was approached by the woman in pink who handed him an envelope.

For the first time, he heard her speak, a melodious alto issued from her lovely lips. "Here's the rest of your fee. I trust you will find it satisfactory."

He looked in at the envelope and saw that the check was triple what he'd been expecting. He looked to her and said, "This is much more than we agreed to. Are you sure your grandfather would approve?"

She chuckled then and he wanted nothing more than to kiss that beautiful mouth and swallow down her earthy laugh.

"My grandfather? No, he won't mind. Especially as it is my money and I can spend it how I choose and on whomever I choose. The man you were dealing with wasn't my grandfather but my servant. I actually hired you." she smiled a predator's smile. "You were definitely well worth it."

His surprise must have shown as she laughed again. "Is it so hard to believe that I would have my own money and be in charge of it?"

She continued to smile at him and he was once again drawn to her eyes. While staring into their cool depths, he began to notice that she appeared to shrink and change form. She sprouted white and brown feathers and her eyes changed shape and color. The form hovering at eye level to him was that of a hawk.

He wasn't the only one, apparently, who noticed that his conversational companion was no longer a human when he heard his saxophonist, Andy, gasp. He turned from the raptor to look at Andy behind him who gawped gracelessly. As he did so, he heard the beating of wings as the bird apparently flew away.

"Did I just see what I think I saw!?" said Andy in a breathless voice.

"You mean the bird of prey that was hovering in front of me?" which was a stupid question, he thought. What else could have made Andy gape like that?

"What else would I be fuckin' talking about?" he said, fear and wonder evident in his voice.

"Just checking to make sure I don't need to be in hospital."

"Well, either what we're seeing is real, which I'm having trouble wrapping my head around. Or, we're suffering from a shared delusion, which I think is even more unlikely. Now that you've got the check and everyone's gone, let's get the hell outta here! I'm not ashamed to say that this place and that woman give me the creeps!"

You guys go on ahead, I'll meet up with you guys Monday to divvy up the money. In fact, why don't you just take the check with you? I'll be seeing you Monday anyway."

Although Andy was grateful to be able to leave the grand old mausoleum behind and run down to the pub for a few pints to try to forget the strangest gig of his life, he didn't like the idea of leaving his friend and band mate to his own devices in the spooky manor. "Are you sure about this, Bryan?"

"Yeah, really, I'm fine. You watch too many horror movies!"

"Well, if you're sure…" he said, already turning to leave.

"Goodnight Andy and tell the others I said goodnight as well"

After waiving off his anxious friend, he turned back to find himself in an empty ballroom. What was going on here? Bryan was interrupted from his musings by the return of the hawk, who flew to his forearm and perched, seeming for all the world like it had always belonged there. He decided to walk up the stairs and to the balcony, bird in tow. It's(her?) grasp was surprisingly gentle and he just felt the hint of the powerful talons.

He pondered the fact, and, no mistake, it was a fact, that he'd landed in a scenario straight out of a fairy tale. He set the hawk down on the railing of the balcony and he watched in awe as the bird shifted shape to the beautiful woman in pink, her feet bare and on the chilly floor.

"Who are you?" he asked, to be met with her playful smile.

"Mab" she said, performing a slightly mocking curtsy.

"I'm Bryan" he said, though he knew she must know his name.

"Of course you are! Now that introductions are out of the way, why did you stay? You could have joined your friends."

"No, I really couldn't." he said back and he knew that she knew it as well. Even if he weren't already besotted with her, he had the feeling that he would've found the place nearly impossible to leave. He was meant to stay behind. He knew this instinctually, with no uncertainty whatsoever.

"You're right, of course." she said. "I'm not finished with you."

As she spoke, he had a strange notion that should he have chosen to leave, he'd have never found his way out of the manor and if by some miracle he did, the van he and his band mates arrived in wouldn't have started until he had stepped out of the vehicle. It was illogical but no less true for that.

He knew that Mab wasn't human. He wasn't hallucinating her shape shifting nor her strange aura.

"What are you?" he asked, hoping, through the inertia that had settled over his will long since, that she wouldn't take offense.

Another rich chuckle, followed by a smile was her response before her smooth dark voice replied, "Don't be ridiculous! You know what I am! Fairy, elf, one of the Fair Folk. You might say that I'm one of their queens."

He nodded. He knew this already, he realized. What did she want of him? Why did she go through the trouble of hiring his band? Why had she singled him out and let the others go?

"I believe you know the answer to this as well. I long for a companion. It's been so long since I've had a consort. As to why I chose you in particular, I have always favored artists as my companions."

Wearily he looked at her. "And if I refuse?"

"You are always free to do so and I will let you leave here with no ill will. However, I think you'll find that you don't really wish to leave. You and I captivate each other. What do you have in your life now holding you?" she asked, a mere formality. She knew the answer to that particular question and was hoping to get him to realize the answer as well.

Perhaps he should've felt insulted but he couldn't find it in himself to take offense. She spoke nothing but the truth. He had no family, no close friends and nothing that he would miss in his life. His band mates would probably not even remember him if what he believed about fairy magic was true. Their minds were probably wiped clean of him the instant their van left the grounds. He had nothing to lose.

"I don't have anything that I couldn't bear to part with. My life always seemed to be lacking. Lacking in substance and, I realize, in magic. I will stay with you."

She smiled her dazzling smile and took his arm. They walked like this, arm and arm, down the stairs and across the dance floor until they reached the doorway leading out of the ballroom. He could feel a chill tingling sensation at his back and he turned to look behind him.

He saw the ballroom turn hazy and indistinct, running like a watercolor, gradually fading out of existence. A moment of worry took him then. He looked at her lovely face and then ahead of him. He found himself at the edge of a green leafy forest with the brilliant light of a setting sun painting the leaves in gold and red pink. The air was the sweetest he'd smelled and the birdsong was of a beauty and clarity he'd never experienced, save in daydreams.

She looked at him and then out toward the forest. Smiling she lead him down the path and toward a destination that he couldn't see yet but he knew it was home.


End file.
